The Journalist
by TimeTot1997
Summary: Vanessa Collins, a journalist is looking into the mysterious death of Ginger, the former assistant of Peter Vincent, two years later. Will her meddling unfold even more problems for herself, her sister and the vampire extraordinaire when a threat that has been regenerating underground for nearly under a century decides to make itself known? (2011) Rated M for sex/gore and language.
1. Prologue: Welcome to Fright Night

_**A/N:** If you don't like the plot, characters or character pairings, then don't read. You have been warned. _

_**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Fright Night 2011. Or Colin Farrel...or David Tennant... :'(_

 _ **WORD COUNT: 2, 074  
**_

* * *

 _ **PROLOGUE:**_

 _ **Welcome to Fright Night.**_

* * *

Vanessa Collins and her sister Audrey arrived in a small town near close to the capital of Vegas. They parked their vintage 69 Valiant Pacer on the curb of their new house.

"Hey, Essa, look at this place!" Audrey exclaimed from the passenger seat beside her sister, her face pressed against the glass.

"Yeah, Rey, I can see it, I'm not blind" Vanessa sighed, it was obvious that her sister was the more excitable one.

Both girls were capable of a successful modelling career, but Vanessa went into Journalism, for her thirst for knowledge and to strive for the truth and Audrey found herself into Drama, which suited her personality and her desires.

Vanessa turned off the car and got out, her blue denim shorts and off-the-shoulder beige sweater soon became uncomfortable in the humidity and heat. She was thankful that her feet could breathe in her pretty golden sandals she wore. "Jesus Christ." She exclaimed. The wind rustled her hair, which was a dark pure red and rested at the middle of her back in a thick straight curtain. Audrey hopped out of the car and jumped on her sister, wearing a light blue short skirt, a loose white top with a dark blue denim jacket which reached her ribs and she also wore her modest heels, (which is only modest if she hasn't fallen with them on in the last hour) with a shock of messy blonde hair that reached her chin as she hugged her beloved sister.

"I know, isn't it great?" Audrey asked as Vanessa started to suffocate in her sister's chest with her added height.

"Audrey, get off me, I can't fucking breathe!" Vanessa yelled, pushing away from her sister, who giggled and started to skip, which was impressive.

"Oh, hello! You must be the new neighbors!" A blonde-haired woman called from next door. Both Vanessa and Audrey smiled at the woman.

"Yeah, we are." Vanessa said, crossing the distance to meet the neighbor. "Nice to meet you, I'm Vanessa Collins, this is my sister Audrey." Vanessa pointed to Audrey who bounded up like an excited puppy to shake the neighbor's hand.

"Nice to meet you!" Audrey exclaimed excitedly.

"Jane Brewster. Nice to meet you, both. My son. Charley, is probably still sleeping. You could probably catch him around with his girlfriend Amy." Jane explained, smiling. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you, girls."

Vanessa and Audrey both said their farewells and walked into the house, starting to move all the furniture in.

 _ **~~~6 hours later~~~**_

Both Vanessa and Audrey lay on the couch, spent after hours of placing, arguing, re-placing and cleaning and setting up electronics, re-assembling, assembling, dis-assembling and throwing away, they were finished.

Audrey poked Vanessa's thigh with her foot.

"What?" Vanessa mumbled through the pillow.

"Make dinner." Audrey groaned.

"Do I look like your slave? Go and make your own dinner, you lazy-ass." Vanessa slapped her sisters leg gently, getting her message across.

"You're a better cook than me! Remember the last time I cooked?"

Vanessa did and she vowed never to sample any kind of edible creation brought to form by Audrey's less than capable hands.

Vanessa instantly got up, one side of her hair sticking up in odd places. "Did you apply for that acting position in that Peter Vincent show?" She asked and Audrey nodded.

"He replied almost instantly, said that he'd be conducting the auditions himself and wanted a girl who was charismatic and not a cow, so obviously, I fit the criteria." Audrey said, and Vanessa laughed.

"Did he actually say that? What a douche-bag!" Vanessa laughed and helped her sister up before the both of them walked into the kitchen and she started to make sandwiches. "It's all we got. I'll go shopping tomorrow, and I am proud of you for landing your first audition. Thank God, we have enough wine and champagne to last us twenty years."

Audrey smiled at her big sister and nodded. "Thank you very much, I am almost certain I'll get it." Her two sandwiches were set in front of her. Vanessa produced two wine glasses and went to the fridge and pulled out one of the many champagne bottles they had in store, filled up both glasses to the brim and clinked them together.

"To your audition. I hope it all goes well, little sis." Vanessa toasted and Audrey smiled brightly.

"Thanks Essa, and it will. Because I'll be the next assistant for Peter Vincent's show, watch me." Audrey said, grinning as they sipped at their drinks and ate their dinner.

 _ **~~~Next Day~~~**_

Audrey was next in line for the audition. She had been trying to piece together what the Hell was going on, girls and walked in and then come out, grumbling angrily and their faces were wet, their make up ruined.

What the hell did Peter Vincent do to the girls?

"Crystal?" Peter Vincent's PR guy called, sticking his handsome head out the door. "You may come in now."

 _Shit._

(..)

"Hold on, just one moment, Blondie." Peter's English accent stopped her, she had acted her ass off and he seemed impressed, but he refused to call her anything but her 'name', seeing only her bleach-blonde hair.

Peter (who was in costume) walked up to her, holding a wooden flask with what looked like an ornate cross etched into the wood. He raised his arm and brought it down to her, water splashed across her face and he looked closely, as if looking for anything out of the ordinary, apart from the spluttering and the coughing.

"Alright, you passed. See you tomorrow for our first rehearsal. Jason, get rid of all the other girls, I've picked the one I want. Quickly now! Quick, quick, quick!" He ordered, turning his back on her and clicked his fingers as he walked away, his skinny frame clad in leather and Jason rushed her out.

Audrey stared at Jason with her sapphire-blue eyes narrowed angrily. "What the fuck was that about?" Audrey hissed at him and he looked at her apologetically, his sweet brown eyes sympathetic and his light brown hair floppy. He was adorable and Audrey liked him instantly.

"I'm sorry, Miss Collins, but Mr Vincent is making sure you're not a vampire." Jason explained, his eyes wide as his tanned skin paled somewhat.

"What, is he that deep into his character? Gotta admire that." Audrey said, smiling at Jason and he blushed at her, his heart beating just a little faster.

"Yeah, stays in character quite a lot actually." Jason grinned back, before going to the line of restless girls and hearing their groans and their curses as they stomped to the exit and Audrey followed, bouncing with happiness, unable to contain her joy.

 _'Wait until Essa hears this!'_

(..)

Meanwhile Vanessa had just come back from the shops and stocked the entire pantry and fridge full of food and necessities they needed. She had just finished dinner and was currently on a call from her Editor and Chief.

 _"Listen, Collins. I need you to get a 3 page exclusive on Peter Vincent. He's the new hottest thing, since those disappearances two years ago. I want you to be the first journalist on scene to get the inside scoop on what really happened to his assistant: Sophia Valara, a.k.a Ginger who was murdered."_

"But why should I be the one to get a couple of quotes from some guy who thinks he hunts vampires? He sounds like a complete dumb-ass. And in any case, I thought she hit her head on one of his many trinkets and she died from blood loss?" Vanessa argued her case, dreading the thought of having to interview some wannabe vampire hunter and ruin her sister's fledgling career. Vanessa's temper started to rise at the thought of Audrey's anguished look when she found out what Vanessa had to do now.

 _"We tipped off the coroner to give us the reports. Sophia's entire body was drained, apart from what Dr O'Mallay could siphon, she measured only a glass of blood, if that, left in that woman's body. And the marks on her neck, were not from any implement that Vincent had said in his statement. They were bite marks, and the puncture wounds were elevated, as if her neck had been sucked on. AND the puncture wounds coincide with the main artery in the jugular. Either he was into kinky freak sex and it went too far, or he believes his own hype, OR, there's a third party and he's too scared to tell. Get me that story, Collins."_

The line went dead.

Vanessa growled and threw her phone across the room and willed it to smash, but it didn't and it landed safely on the couch and it pinged, indicating a new message, though Vanessa looked as though it was mocking her. She turned her back to the phone and set the table for herself and Audrey. She set the lamb shanks with her special wine sauce drizzled on top as well as home-made mash potatoes with garlic and herbs woven in the mixture.

The front door opened and Audrey sang. "I'm home~!" Vanessa smiled at Audrey's way of announcing herself and she ran into the kitchen/dining room. "Oh! Essa! I got the job! I got the job and he's so cute, but his PR guy is way hotter!" She ran into Vanessa's arms and hugged her tight. "I got the job, Essa!"

It was hard to not get swept in Audrey's tornado-like joy but somehow Vanessa managed and realizing that her sister was not in an equally happy mood, Audrey pulled away, "Essa, what's the matter?"

"My Editor and Chief just called me." Vanessa said and sighed.

"Oh, fuck, she hasn't fired you, has she?" Audrey exclaimed, wide-eyed and concerned.

"Oh, no, she hasn't. I wish she had though." Vanessa sighed. "I wouldn't be faced with this fucking decision, right now."

"What's going on, Essa?" Audrey asked, her tone and her face serious, seeming much older than her 27 years.

"Joan wants me to do an exclusive on Peter Vincent, your new boss. Wants me to hound him for information on the death of his last assistant Sophia Valara, who was also known as Ginger, he said it was because-"

"-she slipped and fell into one of his newest editions to his museum, puncturing her neck. I know the theories that went along with it too. You're worried, if he gets angry with you, he's going to take it out on me."

Vanessa nodded. "And now, I'm worried you're going to fucking slip and kill yourself, literally, you know what you're like with you're heels."

Audrey hugged her sister tightly before saying her bit. "Listen, I know it's a bit dangerous because he's an illusionist and he takes it a bit far, but I'm telling you, he doesn't know we are sisters. I have a stage name, my name is Crystal. So don't worry, he's not going to fire me and I'm not going to trip. I'll put in a good word, anonymously of course and I'll get you in. Give me a week." Audrey said and winked at her sister who smiled back. "Now, Miss-I-Act-Way-Older-Than-I-Am-But-I'm-Really-Only-30, let's eat and I'll tell you about my day."

* * *

 **Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this new story about Fright Night. I hope you enjoy it and it is based on a Peter Vincent/OC thing, but it will progress. I hope you enjoy it, because I rather like writing it.  
**

 **I'm sorry if it's also a little fast.**

 **Thank you so much**

 **Review. Follow. Favourite**

 **RIKOREN xD**


	2. Chapter 1: Stop

_**A/N:** If you don't like the plot, characters or character pairings, then don't read. You have been warned. _

_**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Fright Night 2011. Or Colin Farrel...or David Tennant... :'(_

 _ **WORD COUNT: 3, 339  
**_

* * *

 _ **CHAPTER 1:**_

 _ **Stop.  
**_

* * *

"Crystal, do this! Crystal, do that! No, Crystal, you useless cow! You're supposed to do it like this! Fucking hell! Crystal, help me get my wig off!" Audrey mocked Peter Vincent's incessant whining.

"Is he that bad?" Vanessa asked, leafing through the clippings of past magazine and newspaper articles about Peter Vincent and about Sophia Valara -Ginger- as well as a copy of the coroner's report and the police report, which included Peter's statement and the call which was placed.

"Oh my god, Essa, you have no idea! He's awful. Only when he's drinking Midori is he bearable." Audrey huffed, falling onto the couch.

"Uh-hum." Vanessa hummed. "What about Jason? He seems to be incredibly interested in you." Vanessa said, looking up at her sister with knowing green eyes.

Audrey's irritated expression turned into a grin. "He's such a sweetheart." She said, stretching along the couch like a satisfied cat. "Oh and I got you that interview. I told Jason that an aspiring reporter wanted to get the scoop on ' _Who is the Man Behind the Illusion?'_ or some shit like that." Audrey waved her hand, making Vanessa smack her forehead.

"Journalist, Audrey, I'm a journalist, and that is so far from what my article is about. But thank you, sweetie, I knew you'd come through. When is it?" Vanessa asked, hugging her sister happily, before starting to organize all of her crucial evidence for the interview.

"Sunset, tomorrow. Bring your evening wear, you need to impress him if you want more out of him. You want him looking at your breasts, not your face." Audrey said, making Vanessa squeal in disgust.

"Uh, no way! I am not some ho-bag journalist who thinks flashing my amazing breasts at him is going to solve this poor woman's murder. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll wear something nice." Vanessa said, refusing to meet her sister's eyes.

"Mm-hmm, _nice._ We'll see about that." Audrey said, staring at Vanessa with her knowing look.

Vanessa scoffed, quickly running upstairs to pull out her entire wardrobe, in hopes of finding something, professional, yet sexy, yet no ho-bag journalist.

It was going to be a long night.

(..)

Vanessa was escorted by Audr- sorry, _Crystal_ to Peter Vincent's penthouse suite. "That's what you decided on?" Audrey asked, looking appreciatively at her sister with a soft smirk lining her lips.

"Shut up. It's all I could find." Vanessa retorted, her hair in a tight Lara Croft braid, soft red locks brushed against her cheeks as she walked. Her curvy frame accentuated in a modest, long-sleeved black dress that stopped at her knees. The back of the dress dipped until the middle of her back was showing and she pulled on a leather jacket to hide that look. The sleeves were lacy and even though they weren't visible, the dress was off her shoulders and she looked stunning in it. She wore black 4 inch Manolo Blahnik's with a delicate black strap attached were wrapped around her ankles.

"You look beautiful, but your hair isn't right." Audrey said.

"Huh? Why?"

"It's just the wrong look, your make up is perfect and your outfit is amazing, but your hair doesn't suit your outfit, here." Audrey said and turned to face her sister, stopping the walk in the long hallway, she took out the hair tie and started to style her sisters hair until it draped artfully over her shoulder in small waves, due to the braid. Her bangs framed her face and Vanessa smiled at Audrey.

"Good?"

"Perfect." Audrey said and they continued to walk.

"There's a lot of stuff he collects, huh?" Vanessa mused, looking around, peering in all the glass cabinets.

"Yeah, I think he's compensating." Audrey blurted, her eyes wide in shock as she turned to her sister. "Did I just say that out loud?"

Vanessa's lips started to curl into a semblance of a smile and she nodded. "Nice one."

Audrey quickly composed herself and waited for Vanessa who had her game face on. "Ready?" Vanessa nodded. "Okay." Audrey acquiesced and pushed the door open, where a costumed Peter Vincent stood, looking out the balcony, his long, leather black coat fluttered behind him. "Presenting: Peter Vincent, Vampire Extraordinaire." At his introduction, he turned.

His long black hair spun with his quick movement, kohl ringed her brown eyes, a gleaming piercing in his left eyebrow and perfectly groomed facial hair. He looked like a complete dickhead. His thin frame looked suffocated in leather, his pants looked as if they would have to come off with a crane, they looked so tight. Black biker boots and a whole bunch of silver jewelery adorned his fingers and neck. He clicked his fingers at Audrey. "Midori me, now." He ordered and with a soft sigh, Audrey went to do as she was bid.

Vanessa bristled at how haphazardly and just how demeaning he treated her sister. Granted if she Audrey didn't hide her identity and Vanessa wasn't in such a pickle, she would have sent him to the ER long ago. "Hello, Mr Vincent, my name is Vanessa Collins, I'm a Journalist for the Vegas Sun."

"So, you're here for some article is that it?" He asked in his English accent, his eyes darting to the monitors that showed on the far wall. It clearly showed him and Vanessa, even Audrey who was pouring the drink.

"Yes, but I think-"

"Crystal! Come on, you slow cow! It can't be that hard to put a handful of ice in a glass and fill it with some fucking alcohol! Are you that incompetent?" He roared, completely speaking over Vanessa and Audrey jumped, who was already halfway to him with his drink.

Audrey clenched her teeth and set the drink in front of him. "Here you are, Mr Vincent. Don't choke now." She said and walked off, her leather dress constricting her movements and her 8 inch heels were making it even worse.

Vanessa almost stood and threw one of his expensive trinkets at him for speaking to her sister in that tone, but she knew that Audrey would crack soon and then she would give him what he deserved. So she would wait for her turn. But she was going to say something in Audrey's defense. "You know, she can't move as fast as she could in that dress, you can tell it's restricting her movements and those heels look far too uncomfortable, plus they probably aren't easy to walk in. So, she's probably trying, you shouldn't yell at her for no reason."

Peter stared at her, his eyes almost incredulous. "She was late for my drink and I pay her good money to suffer." He said smugly and Vanessa felt as if throwing her satchel in his face. "Anyway, you wanted some article about the man behind the illusion or something along those lines?" He asked, looking bored.

"Uh no, that isn't what my article is about. Well, it is in a way. It's about Sophia Valara, also known as Ginger, she was your assistant, two years back. I'm looking into her death in more depth and I just want to get a more personal view, seeing as how you were her boss a-and her lover." Vanessa explained, seeing the instant change come over Peter, he was more human, his eyes were dark, somber. His entire face aged and he looked almost awful.

He took a long drink of Midori before eying Vanessa warily. "Why are you looking into it, even more? She slipped and fell, the Police said it was an accident. They took my statement and they left with her body. I have nothing to say to you. Get. Out." He said in one big rush before he quickly walked to the bar and grabbed the decanter full of his favourite alcoholic beverage.

"Please, Mr Vincent. I only want the truth about Sophia's death." Vanessa said, walking to the other side of the bar, still carrying her satchel. "I have found a number of anomalies that don't make sense with your statement." She appealed to him, but he shook his head and filled his glass to the top.

"You are nothing but a bitch looking to ruin my life. It was two years ago. Her family have made peace with her passing. And so have I! So leave me alone, and go ruin somebody else's life!" He roared at her, his brown eyes blazing with anger and now, Vanessa became incensed.

"I want the truth about her death. I won't twist words. I am a true journalist and I know you probably don't believe me. At least listen to my facts before you decide on your course of action. Hear what I have to say, before denying your own innocence." Vanessa breathed, knowing that forcing it upon him would only lead to his rejection again and again. She's dealt with people like this before and they always reacted better with soft coaxing.

"Are you accusing me of her death?" He growled, as his eyes flamed once more.

"I don't believe you're capable of murder. But my boss thinks differently. Let me prove her wrong. Help me save your life and your career." Vanessa appealed to his better nature, taking his hand in hers.

Peter's eyes flew down to the soft touch of her fingertips and felt a pleasurable sensation work through his hand to the tips of his toes. "Fine. You have twenty minutes." Peter grounded out, before moving his hand away.

Vanessa didn't waste a moment.

They both sat on large, dark chairs and she started going through her information. The police reports, his statement, the coroners report and her own theories.

"Fuck. ." He whispered before pulling off the wig, letting his short brown hair be seen. He ran his fingers through it, scratching his irritated scalp before pulling off every accessory on his face.

Vanessa looked on in shock and wonder. He was actually really handsome without all that added facial hair and piercings and the long black hair.

"And how did you get a hold of all of this?" He asked, looking at her inquiringly.

"Uh. ." She stuttered, still shocked at seeing him, normally. "I have my sources." She answered cryptically, not wanting to say her Editor provided her with the coroners report.

"Brilliant. So, your theory is that somebody had broken into my home and murdered her?"

"It's the only theory where it doesn't put you as the murderer." Vanessa rummaged through various pages of information until finding the desired paper. "This is what Dr O'Mallay had to say. ' _Signs of sexual penetration before death, yet no traces of any type of genital fluid (man or female) apart from lubricant solution often found on common sexual devices, i.e: condoms, diaphragms. . . Victim said to have struggled, as proven by multiple lacerations on wrists and throat, including three broken fingers on left hand: forefinger, index finger and ring finger. . . Cause of death is extreme blood loss, yet puncture wounds are elevated, which suggests intense suction, a bite mark to be exact, sharpened canine teeth for exact measurement. No match to any kind of man-made implement having been used. . . Measured blood remaining in body: a glass and one eighth remaining in the veins.'_ " Vanessa stopped reading the snippets she highlighted and looked up to see Peter's broken face.

"I know this is hard, but you can see what it'll look like. Dr O'Mallay found all this out and she never spoke a word. Granted she probably never knew your statement and the Police probably didn't think to investigate because they thought it was an accident. But I can help. Trust me, I can find whoever did this." Vanessa vowed.

"You can't." Peter whispered shakily, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Please. Stop investigating this story. Please don't dig any further. You'll get hurt." He advised.

"Is that a threat, Mr Vincent?" Vanessa asked, her shoulders pulled back and she sat straight, preparing herself.

"No, it's a warning. Stop investigating this story. Because you won't like the outcome and it will only ruin your life in a world ruled by what you do, what you wear, what you become in life, what your past does to define your future. Please. For your sake, just stop. Leave me alone." Peter begged, looking at her. She was too close, even though she didn't know it. She was delving into a world she didn't want to be a part of. A world he can never leave.

"Are you the killer, Mr Vincent? Did you kill Sophia Valara, in a fit of sexual passion, or do you believe you are a vampire and you murdered Sophia. You bit into her neck, pierced the main artery in her neck, _expertly_ , and you left a glass and one eighth of blood left, not including the amount the spilled onto the ground, you broke three of her fingers, bruised her neck and her wrists as you held her down as she struggled silently, hoping you wouldn't hurt her." Vanessa explained, looking at him in all seriousness.

"What? No! I never touched her, apart from the sex! I'd never have abused her and I certainly didn't kill her!" Peter vehemently exclaimed.

"Then _what_ are you trying to hide from me? I'm trying to prove your innocence and bring Sophia's killer to justice. Let me do that-"

"STOP! Please! Just _STOP!"_ Peter roared, standing up suddenly, making Vanessa jump back in fear. "You don't understand! Please just drop it! Just leave her rest in peace, please!" Peter yelled.

"Mr Vincent-"

"CRYSTAL! Get her out!" Audrey came running around the corner and ran to her sister, helping her pack everything up.

"Time to go." Audrey whispered and took her sister by the arm and lead her to the door.

"You'll thank me, Vanessa."

And with that, Vanessa was thrown out of Peter Vincent's penthouse and escorted by her sister, who held her close, whispering soothing words which she couldn't hear.

(..)

"Charley, it's me. Listen, I've just had a journalist here, looking into the death of S-Ginger, listen, she's close. Very, very close even of she doesn't know it and I'm worried about her. She's going to get hurt and if anybody, and you know what I mean, if any of _them_ find out, they'll come for her. Call me when you get this." Peter ended the call and looked around, falling on his bed, drinking Midori from the bottle, thinking about Vanessa Collins.

She was a beautiful woman. Smart. Witty. Sexy. Strong. Confident. Brave.

She was in danger and it was his fault again. It was his fault that Sophia died and now it would be his fault if Vanessa or Crystal got hurt because of him.

Fuck, he needed to get drunk.

(..)

"What the fuck is this, Collins? I asked for a three page exclusive, wanting _answers_ on Sophia Valara's death! Not three pages of obscure shit! I wanted Peter Vincent wrapped up in a little bow and served to the public as a five star, 3 course meal! What the fuck do you give me? Plain Jane's newest fucking ten ways to cook a steak! I should fucking fire you!" Joan screamed, throwing Vanessa's article on her desk.

"Well, since he didn't give me much, I had to improvise. This is better than what was first issued, two years ago, stating the facts as they are and that Peter Vincent didn't do it." At Joan's eye roll, Vanessa kept going. "As soon as I said her name, he almost broke down and then when I read out the coroner's report, he looked broken. It was a look of pure anguish. He was going through so much pain. You can't fake grief like that. It shows in the eyes. In the wrinkles. It ages you. And it's shown on him when I told him of Sophia's state. It wasn't Peter Vincent. I'll get your story. But, give me time. I need time to dig even further into this." Vanessa pleaded with Joan.

Joan huffed and crossed her arms, her blonde eyebrows pulled together. "Fine. I'll give you all the time you need. But you better fucking get this story. I'm warning you."

"I know!" Vanessa said, walking out. She sat at her desk and tried to think of ways to glean information from her resisting lead.

(..)

Charley ended up at Peter's home, after meeting his new assistant who showed him in. She was nicer and a lot less argumentative. Once she left, Charley confronted Peter. "How much does she know?"

"She has the coroner report, the police report, the photos. She even has my fucking statement and my call transcripts to the ambulance and the police. She's fucking loaded and ready to go. She could name me the killer if she wanted to, though she believes otherwise. I told her to leave me alone, to not dig any further." Peter explained, drinking straight from the bottle, only in his silky black robe and his red silk boxers.

"Well, if you're talking about Vanessa Collins, then I've already read the article." Charley said and pulled out a folded piece of paper, throwing it to Peter, who caught it deftly and opened it instantly, skimming through it.

"S-she's. ."

"She hasn't twisted anything, only stated the facts. She's put her own theory that it was a crazed fan who believes they are vampires and in her own words, _'believes to be a vampire and tried to 'turn' Sophia Valara, Ginger, by physically modifying their teeth into sharp points and was so deluded in the idea that they drank her blood. As Peter Vincent is widely known for his role as a vampire extraordinaire in his show: Fright Night, perhaps the fan thought that Peter Vincent would bring him to his end. .'_ She goes on to say more but that's all I remember. She's said it was a fan, but it won't stop her from finding the real reason. She's too close and no doubt Jerry made friends in 400 years. They might come after her." Charley spoke, pacing up and down the length of the penthouse.

"I can't believe she didn't accuse me." Peter said, looking over the article and the printed words that brought his innocence.

"Maybe there's more to her than her profession. You sometimes forget journalists are people." Charley said.

"I have to thank her, sometime." Peter looked up at Charley.

"Wow, you really are drunk, aren't you?" The young man asked, looking up at his friend and confidant.

"Fucking must be, if I'm thinking of thanking a journalist. I've been hanging out with you too much. You're like a girl." Peter said, taking another long drink from the bottle of Midori.

Charley chuckled, smiling at his friend. "It's called being nice. Not a dick. Try it."

"Aww. I like being a dick. It's better than being a girl." Peter retorted, though he went to his bedroom to change in normal clothes.

He was going to visit a journalist.


	3. Chapter 2: I Said I Was Sorry

_**A/N:** If you don't like the plot, characters or character pairings, then don't read. You have been warned. _

_**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Fright Night 2011. Or Colin Farrel...or David Tennant... :'(_

 _ **WORD COUNT: 2, 184  
**_

* * *

 _ **CHAPTER 2:  
**_

 _ **I Said I was Sorry.**_

* * *

"Um, excuse me, sir! You can't just waltz in here! I need you to sign in and tell me who it is you're looking for." The receptionist, Barry said, grabbing the man's arm.

"Look, I'm here to see Vanessa Collins, I have an apology to say." Peter yelled, exasperated as he held up the lilies he clutched in his hand right in front of Barry's face.

"Sorry, sir. But she isn't here. It's her day off. Are you her boyfriend or something?" Barry asked, looking at Peter with narrowed eyes.

"Uh, yes. Yes I am her boyfriend. We started going out a week ago, must be why you don't know who I am." Peter lied, wincing slightly, hoping Vanessa wouldn't be mad at him.

"Alright then, well, I assume you know where she lives." Barry said and Peter shook his head softly. "Well, you're only a week into the relationship, I'm not surprised." Barry wrote down her address and passed the piece of paper to Peter.

"Thank you very much." Peter smiled, before quickly walking out before the receptionist asked for his name. He inspected the address. His eyebrow creased in confusion. He knew that address, but where had he seen it before?

Banishing the thought, Peter jumped into his car and sped off, setting his GPS to Vanessa's house. The streets sped past in a blur as he drove to his journalist's home.

(..)

Vanessa walked downstairs, in her ex-boyfriend's football jersey, which reached the middle of her thighs. It worked as a great nightgown and there weren't any sappy memories attached because he was a douche-bag of a boyfriend, so she looked at this as a score for her. She just had to be careful when she stretched or bent down. Vanessa ran her fingers through her hair, in an attempt to brush it down a little, yet to no avail, it stuck right back up. She sighed in exasperation before heading to the kitchen in search of something to eat. She grabbed the ingredients she needed for an omelette and got cooking. Chopping up the ingredients for the stuffing and the started to cook the egg.

Vanessa plated her food and beamed with pride, happy that the egg didn't break and that it was a lovely golden brown. She sat with the omelette and speared a portion onto her fork, lifting it to her mouth. Then the doorbell rang.

Vanessa let her head fall back as she groaned in frustration. She pushed herself up and padded barefoot to the door, ready to let the person who just interrupted her breakfast have it. "Do you realize just how early-" She paused mid-rant as she noticed the person standing in front of her.

Peter Vincent stood there, in a white button down shirt which was surprisingly ironed and black suit pants. He was devoid of makeup and black nail polish, he had taken off the fake tattoos. He looked like a normal human being and not his vampire-hunter alias. "Mr Vincent! H-how? W-why?" She stuttered, unable to comprehend that the man that kicked her out of his home, was in the doorway of _hers,_ holding lilies in his hand.

What was he up to?

"I just wanted to apologize for my behavior last Wednesday, you know, for kicking you out of my house and all." Peter started, looking rather nervous. The last time he had given a girl flowers was when he was 15, for his girlfriend in Middle School, who he adored. That was before his parents were murdered. Pushing away those horrible memories, he thrust the flowers at Vanessa and she accepted them, stunned, "and I wanted to thank you for your article. You could have twisted all of the evidence to benefit your own career, but you didn't and you went with a theory that actually makes a lot of sense." Peter finished, his cheeks a little pink as he stopped talking and finally eyed Vanessa's state of dress and instead of staring with a lecherous grin on his face, he took the high road and looked up, his cheeks even redder.

"Oh, um, thank you. And you're welcome, I guess. I told you I wouldn't twist your words or the evidence provided. I want to find the real reason. What I wrote is just a theory, many people will have their doubts about it, so be prepared." Vanessa forewarned and Peter nodded, refusing to meet her gaze, incase he decided that his eyes would travel to her bare legs. Which were beautifully tanned and supple.

"Right." Peter managed to choke out.

"Perhaps, you'd like to come inside and tell me how you know where I live? I don't really like flashing the neighbors anymore than I intend to." Vanessa said and pulled Peter in by his arm, quickly shutting the door and sighed. She could feel Adrian Wellers' salacious gaze staring a hole right to her legs and her 'nether-region' and she hated it.

"Oh, well. I- uh," Peter stuttered out, not sure how she'd react to the news that now the receptionist was under the pretense that she had a dashing English boyfriend.

"Jesus Christ, just tell me!" Vanessa growled, impatient.

"I told the receptionist I was your boyfriend." Peter blurted out like a teenager caught doing something and he tried to lie about it.

Vanessa's face morphed from impatience to a look of pure fury. "YOU DID _WHAT!?"_ She roared, her jade green eyes hardened to stone and glinted like emeralds.

"I know, but it was the only way I could make sure I could apologize!" Peter defended himself.

"You couldn't have waited until my normal working hours? You had to come to my home and catch me in nothing but a football jersey and claim to have an apology and give me flowers. What were you planning on? What are your _true_ motives?!" Vanessa screeched, pointing an accusing finger at him, inches from his nose.

"What? I wasn't planning on doing any- wait, you aren't wearing _anything_ under that football jersey?" Peter lost his train of thought at the mention of: ' _. .nothing but a football jersey. .'_ and he looked back down at her legs, which her splayed apart in her defensive stance. Of course, her black panties were visible and his cheeks turned red at the thought of seeing her curvy body in nothing but one of his leather jackets as she walked toward him in his apartment.

Vanessa let out a squeak and pushed the jersey down with her free hand, her cheeks flushed from anger and now embarrassment. "Get out!" She yelled, jabbing at him with her leg, careful about letting her underwear be seen by a pervert.

"Hold on! You've got it all wrong! I didn't think that seeing you in your normal working hours would have been appropriate, considering how if I showed up and somebody noticed me, you'd be suspected of covering up for me because we could be having sex for all they know. I didn't want to risk it and I also didn't want to send the flowers to your house, considering at the time, I had no idea where you lived and it would have been kind of inconsiderate since I threw you out of my house. So I just made up a little lie and the receptionist seemed to buy it. You can just tell him we got into a huge fight and we broke up. Not that big of a deal." Peter explained himself, hoping Vanessa saw his side of the story.

Oddly enough, she visibly calmed down, but she was still wary. "I didn't think of it that way. Alright, I'm sorry for yelling and calling you a pervert." Vanessa said, motioning him to come into the kitchen and as he followed, he could see the curve of her well rounded bottom in her lacy panties and he closed his eyes, willing for control. Instead he saw the same leather-clad Vanessa image walking toward him seductively as he lay on the bed, wearing his black robe. Her red hair wild and her green eyes wide, full of lust.

"You didn't call me a pervert." Peter mused, snapping out of his daydream and just avoided the wall of the archway.

"No, but I thought it." Vanessa retorted and she hunted for a vase in the kitchen, making a little noise of triumph, she found a beautifully shaped vase and filled it with water, and set the lilies in it, setting the flowers in the centre of the table. "Would you like anything to drink?" She asked, trying to keep some shred of decency. She really thought she should go upstairs and change.

"Oh, yeah. Do you have any Midori?" He asked, looking at her with a straight face. Vanessa walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of the green liquid, chilled. She unscrewed the cap and grabbed a glass, filling it to the top and gave it to Peter.

"Give me a minute." She said and quickly ran upstairs to change into something more decent. Peter smiled at her obvious embarrassment in her attire so he just sat down and sipped at the glass, enjoying the drink and he savored every flavor of the sweet lime concoction that served to calm his nerves.

Vanessa came back five minutes later, wearing a top that had Superman emblazoned on the front and black skinny-leg jeans and her favourite black converse.

"I am very impressed that you have this. Not many people do." Peter said matter-of-factually.

Vanessa shrugged. "I love it, it's best when it's chilled, I think."

"I think so too." Peter said, his brown eyes flicking to meet hers and they stared into each others eyes for quite a while, until Peter got up suddenly, draining the glass of Midori. "I better head off. Thank you for the drink and for everything else you've done." Peter said, smiling softly at her, wishing he could take her in his arms.

Vanessa smiled and nodded. "You're very welcome. And if you could consider the possibility of consenting to an interview. I'm doing an article on _'The Man Behind the Illusion.'_ I'd love to get the inside scoop of your show. Lot's of people have requested it since the other article.

"Anytime. How about a week from now, Sunday? We could have dinner and you could interview me then?" Peter asked suggestively.

Vanessa's lips spread further apart in a broad grin. "It's set. I'll meet you at the new Italian place that just opened in the city."

"It's a date. See you then, Vanessa." Peter grinned, letting himself out before Vanessa could correct him that it wasn't a date. She had purposely avoided that word and he flaunted it like a proud peacock in mating season.

She rolled her eyes and exasperation quickly overrode any sweet feelings she may have developed. "Asshole." She muttered, taking the glass and put it in the dishwasher.

(..)

Underneath the soil, a new threat started to rise from the Earth in search of a new life to make. Its clawed hands dug its way out of the soil , pushing upwards and it freed itself from its prison and it took a deep breath as it breathed in the damp air. Not exactly fresh but it was more than what it had breathed in a century.

"My Lord, I have brought you a meal. I thought you might be hungry." It's loyal servant said, pushing forward three unconscious humans. It wobbled on its knees and shakily got to its feet, finding its balance and stood tall. Sweeping long dark hair from its eyes. Blue eyes opened and dirt crusted lips curved in an evil grin. "Well then," a deep voice spoke in the small space and he breathed in once more, "let's eat."

He started forward and picked up one of the humans roughly, taking what he needed to replenish his thirst.

"My Lord. .welcome to 2015." The servant bowed and he looked to his Lord and Master in reverence.

"2015, is it? It was 1915 when the vampire hunters raided my home and left me in that burning mansion to die. 100 years I've been in the Earth, regenerating. Tell me, Frederick, what does this new world, hold for me?" The vampire asked, fixing his eyes on his most loyal servant. Who had saved him.

"Yes, my Lord Dominic. I shall tell you everything."

...

TO BE CONTINUED.


End file.
